


comeuppance

by Anonymous



Series: the knismollymauk agenda [7]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Play Fighting, Tickling, Wrestling, obviously a molly lives au, widomauk if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Don’t suppose I can talk you into reconsidering this," Mollymauk says. There’s almost aquaverin there.Serves the fucker right. "Not a fucking chance," Beau tells him.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Mollymauk Tealeaf, The Mighty Nein & Mollymauk Tealeaf
Series: the knismollymauk agenda [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178735
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	comeuppance

**Author's Note:**

> AS WAS INEVITABLE.
> 
> [tumblr](http://ticklishnonsense.tumblr.com)

Mollymauk is kind of a dick. Beau considers him one of her closest friends, against her better judgment, but that doesn’t change him being kind of a dick.

Sometimes, like today, when they’re having a _perfectly fucking peaceful_ day off in the Xhorhaus, Molly decides that the best way to spend his time is bugging her until she starts swinging right there in the living room. And sure, Beau is always up for a good tussle, even when she'd planned to spend most of today _in the hot tub with a nice fucking glass of wine,_ but Molly _cheats._ He knows he can’t beat her in a fair fight, not without drawing blood, and just recently he figured out that Beau’s ticklish, and - well.

Well, now he's looming over her on their rug in front of their fireplace, snickering at her as she shrieks out laughter. His fingers are buried in her armpits, wriggling and tickling furiously, and, thrash as she might, Beau can't throw him off when she's this distracted. Their friends are scattered around the room, reading and chatting and generally not paying attention in the slightest.

Beau has lost most of their recent scraps like this. Just thinking about it gives her a burst of infuriated adrenaline. She draws her knees up to her chest and kicks out, sending Molly flying a few feet. He tumbles onto the rug with an _oof._ "Hey-"

"Fuck you," Beau spits. She flips after him and yanks him into a headlock. "Gonna grind your smug little purple face into the carpet til you _beg for mercy-_ "

Molly reaches around her back and tickles her other side, a quick scrabble of fingers just below her ribcage. Beau grabs for his hand - but then he manages to get his other hand onto her near side, where his cheek is pressed against her ribs, and tickles there instead, making her jump about a foot and then start spitting curses. When she tries to swat his wriggling fingers away with the hand that’s locked around his neck, he evades it easily. Beau only lasts a few seconds until she lets go of him to jam her arms down around both sides.

She springs to her feet. Molly stands too. They circle each other for a moment, predator and prey, prey and predator. His eyes are glittering with crimson mischief.

"You fucker," Beau says. Her abs are aching.

"Cranky cause you're losing a spar, are you?"

Beau growls incoherently. "You think this counts as _sparring?_ You gonna fuckin' _tickle_ the next eldritch abomination we see?"

"It seems to be working well enough on you," Molly tosses back, impish.

Beau lunges for him. He slips through her hands and dances back, still laughing at her.

"I'll give you something to _fucking_ laugh about," she hisses, and tackles him onto their sofa.

He goes down pretty easy. Beau flops down on top of him, trying to will herself heavier. She should’ve thought of this sooner. No one starts tickle fights unless they’re ticklish themself. Sure enough, when Beau starts poking all over his sides, Molly starts spluttering. _"Hheh - eheheh_ \- wait, wait-"

"Oh, _wait?_ You want me to _wait?"_ Beau punctuates her words with squeezes to his ribs. At each one, he thrashes under her. Fierce excitement wells up in her at the prospect of victory. "To _graciously_ return all the _mercy_ you showed me? Not so fucking _tough_ when it’s you, _huh?!"_

She gets her hands on his stomach and scrabbles all over it, and Molly breaks down into a helpless rush of _ahahahah-!_ s and whines. He isn’t tapping out, but he’s also laughing so hard he probably couldn’t call mercy if he tried, so Beau stops tickling and bares her teeth in a fierce grin down at him. "Do you say uncle?"

Mollymauk gasps a few times and says, "Whoooooo."

Beau tweaks his side as a warning. "Say. Uncle. Or you get more."

He smiles up at her, looking utterly saintly with his red eyes and devil’s horns. "Mm, what were you saying? About whether or not tickling counts as winning a spar?"

 _"Oh?"_ Beau barks out a laugh. "You _really_ don’t learn, do you?"

"You’re just," says Mollymauk, "so easy to provoke."

"I hate you _so_ much," Beau says, strangled. "I’m going to wring your fucking neck someday-"

He grabs for her waist. Beau screeches, more in anger than in laughter, as she rears up off of him. She snatches both his hands and pins them down at his sides. For a moment, there’s a standoff, him grinning up at her, her scowling down at him.

Beau tries to pinch his side without letting go of one of his hands, and it doesn’t work at fucking all - Molly yanks his wrist free, and then when she goes to recapture it he gets his fingers in her armpits. She _howls._ "Fuckin’- god _damn_ it, Molly-!"

But, in her flailing, she manages to land a stunning strike on a pressure point on his shoulder. Suddenly, Molly slumps underneath her. Beau grins and shoves her hands under his shirt, clawing mercilessly up and down his sides as a stream of wheezy giggles starts pouring out of his mouth.

"Try his knees," Veth suggests, walking by with a mug of tea.

Beau sits back on her haunches and grabs for Molly’s limp leg, squeezes around his kneecap a few times, wiggles her fingers into the underside. Molly squawks with a sudden genuine terror before the stun wears off and he kicks himself free.

Huh. Beau examines him for a moment, breathing heavily under her, and then looks up and narrows her eyes at Veth. "You _knew_ he’s ticklish?"

Veth perches on the sofa arm next to where the two of them are tangled up, looking down at them with mild interest. "Well, yeah."

"And you didn’t _tell me?"_

"Honestly, I figured you would’ve already known."

"I’m _right here,"_ says Molly. He darts a glance around the room, looking a little discomfited.

Beau follows his gaze to each of their friends, and narrows her eyes. "Who else had this knowledge? And didn’t let me know? Yasha, I’m assuming?"

Yasha, who’s sitting next to their fireplace and gazing at it tranquilly and looking fucking hot as usual, looks up. "Hmm? Yes, he's ticklish."

No surprises there. "Anyone _else?"_

"I knew," says Caleb, and _that’s_ kind of a surprise, but whatever.

"It's useful for wearing him out sometimes," Caduceus adds.

Beau gapes. "Did _everyone_ know this but me?!"

"I knew," Fjord admits.

Jester rolls her eyes. "He's a tiefling, _duh_ he's ticklish."

Molly grins up at her, somehow managing to ooze smugness even with his shirt pushed up and his hair all over the place. "Figures."

Beau growls in frustration. "Well, then - fuckin' _help me,_ guys!"

"Hmm," says Fjord. "See, seems to me that you're doin’ just fine."

He’s making eye contact with Molly, though. Some sort of wordless conversation. Beau doesn’t really care. "FJORD," she says. "COME ON. I WANT TO MAKE HIM REGRET BEING BORN."

"Glass houses, Beauregard," says Molly. He sits up, manages to get in a poke to her side. Beau startles, swats his hand away, glares at him as he smirks back. _Asshole._ "You can’t be sure that you’ll gain allies instead of enemies."

"Eh," says Fjord, "I'll help. He _does_ kind of deserve it."

Molly goes dead silent as Fjord stands up and starts moving towards him. Then, suddenly, he bolts.

Unfortunately for him, he's in unarmed melee with a fucking _monk._ Beau catches him before he even makes it off their sofa, trapping him in a full nelson without much difficulty. "Beau," he says, with rising apprehension in his voice. "Hey, hey now-"

Beau grins and yanks him into her lap. "Yasha," she says, "come hold his arms up, will you?"

"Hmm? Okay."

_"Beau-"_

"Ooh, ooh, me too!" Jester pipes up. "Caduceus, you come too!" she adds, and there’s an easy, "Oh, sure."

Beau can't see Molly's face, but she can feel him starting to shift around."Seems to me," she tells him, "you're in a roomful of people who all know where you're ticklish."

"Oh, he's ticklish everywhere," Caduceus explains. He sits down on the floor at Molly’s feet. "Veth, help me with this one?"

"Eh, yeah, suppose I will." Veth hops off the arm of the sofa and joins him.

"Don’t suppose I can talk you into reconsidering this," Mollymauk says. There’s almost a _quaver_ in there.

Serves the fucker right. "Not a fucking chance," Beau tells him.

She feels his leg jolt involuntarily at something she can’t see, and then he starts snickering in her lap. He keeps tensing up and jerking an inch in one direction or another, but he can’t actually move that much, even though Beau isn’t holding his legs. Delighted, she realizes Veth or Caduceus, or maybe _both,_ must be holding him still down there. This is going to be _easy._

Fjord sits down next to her on the sofa, makes himself comfortable, and examines Molly for a moment. Molly’s head jerks around to stare at him.

"Fjord?" he says, laughter crackling around the words. "F-fjord-"

A smirk of pure malice spreads over Fjord’s face.

"Beauregard," he says, conversational, with his voice raised slightly over Mollymauk’s rising objections. "Could you make completely sure you’re holding his arms still?"

"I believe I can help with that," comes a quiet voice from above Beau’s head. Beau startles. Yasha is surprisingly sneaky for a woman who’s so huge, and so beautiful and hard to tear your eyes away from and, uh, anyway, Yasha is behind her. Beau feels Molly’s struggles redouble in her grasp, but, fuck, it’s _Yasha._ She grasps Molly’s wrists and pulls them high above his head. Beau locks her arms around his biceps, holding the full nelson strong. Molly isn’t weak, but he’s still squirming in distraction at the tickling on his feet, and he’s _crazy_ outnumbered.

"Perfect," Fjord purrs, and gets his fingers into Molly’s exposed underarms.

He doesn’t go hard. He tickles pretty soft, working his way into the hollows with gentle circles, teasing lightly at the undersides of Mollymauk’s biceps. "Don’t be a pussy," Beau says to him. "Give him _hell."_

"Oh," says Fjord, "I am," and, well, Beau does have to admit that Molly is making noises that can only be described as _squeals._ Fjord leans in directly next to his ear. Beau’s head is on the other side of Molly’s, so she can’t actually hear what Fjord’s whispering to him, but maybe he’s got the right idea, because Molly’s clear laughter has devolved into more of a desperate series of _"heeeeh_ \- I - _eeeehheh - n-"_

Beau grins, looks around for more of their friends. Jester has bounced onto the couch on her other side. "Hey, you," Beau greets her, over the noise of Molly’s frantic giggles and their friends chatting around him. "Remember when he thought _he_ might be gaining allies?"

"Yeahhhh," Jester says, and giggles. "I was just watching him suffer for a bit."

"Wanna help?"

_"Duh!"_

She leans in to drop a kiss on Molly’s cheek, which, adorable. Then she starts squeezing up and down his thighs, absolutely merciless. "Oh m’god," Mollymauk gasps, _"hhahah,_ guys, eheh, guys, wait - _nonononono-"_

 _"Yes,"_ Beau growls into his ear. Jester is laughing along with him and Yasha is chuckling softly behind Beau and Mollymauk is _completely_ helpless and there’s about a million fingers in his ticklish spots, which seem to be _all_ his spots, and, really, this is all Beau could’ve asked for as revenge. She doesn’t even feel bad. Some people do really hate getting tickled - probably Caleb, he seems like he'd hate it. But Molly doesn’t sound like he’s in _serious_ misery, just getting a bit of his well-earned due, so. Beau honestly kind of wishes she could get in on this, but it's satisfying enough to have orchestrated it.

"Can’t go anywhere, can you," she gloats to him. "Got more than you _fucking_ bargained for."

"Beau," Molly wheezes, _"hhahah,_ Beau, _hah, please-"_

"Nah. In fact…" There’s one person still missing. "Caleb," Beau calls across the room, "get over here."

From his armchair, Caleb looks up, examines the situation. Beau isn't really expecting him to come help, so it's honestly a surprise when he says, "Of course," closes his book, stands, and walks over.

Caleb takes his place right in front of Mollymauk and fixes him with a level stare. Beau watches Molly try for a confident smirk that’s immediately interrupted with a tumble of helpless laughter as Jester gets her hands under his knees. He’s thoroughly restrained, and Caleb’s eyes track his desperate squirms with something like _hunger._

 _Huh,_ Beau thinks to herself, wondering how she managed to miss _that._ Gross.

At any rate, Molly keeps managing to meet Caleb’s eyes between peals of laughter, and then ducking his head in something that actually fucking might be embarrassment. Caleb is still studying him with that intense focus, and it’s so noisy between Molly wheezing out laughs and Jester cackling almost as loudly and everyone talking over each other and the sound of Yasha’s quiet amusement behind her that Beau has to practically holler,

_"Fucking get on with it, Widogast!"_

"Ah - ja," says Caleb, and then, fucking _finally,_ he pushes up Molly’s shirt and gets his hands on him, and Molly starts _shrieking._ "Ahh - _hhahahah_ \- hhahah-! _Caleheheb - ple-eheh-ease-"_

Jesus. Caleb is _brutal._ Beau watches as his fingers fly over Molly's stomach, scribbling around his belly button and at the tops of his hipbones and in the dips just below his ribs. He doesn't crack a smile, but Beau knows Caleb and she knows the wicked delight in his eyes to see Molly thrashing around wildly trying to escape. It's not much use. He's held pretty snug.

"You deserve this," Beau tells Molly.

Molly wheezes out a tortured laugh and lurches forward with surprising force. Beau, who's still got him in her grip, swears violently as she’s pulled along with him.

_"Fuck-"_

"Oh, _shit-"_

Caleb lands on Veth and Caduceus, and Molly lands on Caleb and Beau lands on Molly and Yasha, who is still hanging on to Molly's hands, pitches forward over the back of the sofa and lands on top of Beau, which Beau is pretty okay with, honestly, but she’s really more preoccupied with the fact that Molly has managed to wriggle free of Yasha’s grip. He glances around wildly and then reaches around Beau to go for Yasha’s ribs.

Yasha lets out a surprised chuckle, then another. When she goes to scoot away, Jester thumps down on top of the pile, and Yasha goes _oof_ as she lands right back on Beau again. Jester, cackling, manages to get her wiggling fingers onto some part of Caleb, who makes a series of rising panicked noises, but he can’t seem to get himself free. Beau struggles, but she’s trapped between Molly and Yasha, so she pokes and prods blindly at whatever ticklish sides are within reach, which, judging by the squawk, are Veth’s, and then it’s chaos, everyone’s hands everywhere, a mash of flailing limbs and uncontrollable laughter on their fucking living-room floor. On the couch, Fjord is watching in amusement, though he doesn't look particularly keen to get involved.

It’s… There are things that don’t come easy to Beau. _Happiness,_ yes, but also _contentment, ease of mind._ She doesn’t really let herself think about why. But there’s also something about the Nein that thrusts _contentment_ upon her. Something about open laughter, close touch, spitting curses at people who know she doesn’t mean it, nothing more to worry about than the possibility that Jester might-

Jester jams her wriggling fingers under Beau’s arm, and Beau _yells,_ dives back into getting her vengeance on whichever of her ticklish-ass friends she can reach.

Veth is the first to escape the pile, spluttering in indignation as she squirms out from the bottom of the heap. Caleb follows, patting down his hair fussily like he hasn’t just put Mollymauk through the entire wringer and then gone through it himself. The two of them stay close, though, as Caduceus removes himself from the fray, then Yasha, and then finally Jester, sprawling out on their rug as she catches her breath.

Finally, it’s just Beau and Molly again in the middle of the jumble of their friends, Beau kneading ruthlessly at his ribs, Molly too worn down under her to even really thrash anymore. _"Mehehercy,"_ he gasps, "mercy, _hah,_ enough, _mercy-"_

Beau grins in fierce pride. He’s never going to win a spar with her again. "Damn straight."

She squeezes one last time, and then sits up, satisfied with his punishment. His chest is rising and falling rapidly. "Learn your lesson?"

 _"Yes,"_ he rushes out, "yes, no more-"

"Gonna fight clean next time?"

"…Maybe."

Beau claws at his ribs. Molly lets out a pathetic little high-pitched noise and flails around weakly. _"Okay okay that_ tickles _Beau mercy please I cried mercy-"_

She stops again, though she doesn’t take her hands off his sides. Molly flops his hand in the vague direction of her tummy. Beau swats it away easily. He’s way too worn out to continue the tickle fight.

"Don't fuck with me," she warns him, just to be safe.

Molly opens one weary eye, gives her an exhausted grin. With a hoarse, breathless voice, he says, "Beau, dear, I would _love_ to be able to restrain myself."

Beau scowls. "I'll fucking restrain you."

"Mm."

"I’ll tickle you til you _cry_ next time."

"If I don’t get you fi-" Beau pinches his sides, and Molly sucks in a panicked gasp, eyes going wide again. _"Alright, alright, enough, I’ll be good."_

"Bitch," she says for good measure.

"Asshole," Molly mumbles. He still isn’t really moving.

Honestly, Beau’s probably going to tickle him senseless again anyway. Mollymauk is very tolerable when he’s this defenseless.

"Want to go out for drinks tonight?" she asks, remembering something she’d meant to suggest earlier.

"Yeah, sure."


End file.
